CHAPTER XIII.
For two enemies the world is too small, for two friends a needle's eye is large enough.—Bulwer.
The brothers spend nearly all of the next morning in the factory. Floyd has left his substitute with the professor, and sent Cecil to ride, so that she shall not distract Violet's attention. He tries to explain to Eugene all that he has done, the money he has advanced, and the future that seems possible. "It will be a long pull," he says, "but when you get through, the result will be a handsome business. Three years ought to do it."
"Three years," Eugene repeats, with a sigh.
For a moment Floyd is provoked. Does Eugene never expect to put his shoulder to the wheel, to take any real care? Must he fight the matter through for them all? But then, there is Violet.
"I shall expect you to take some part of the business, Eugene, and keep to it. Wilmarth is admirable in his department. He is getting out new patterns, and now that he is really convinced of success he will no doubt throw all his energies into it. Will you keep the books and look after the correspondence? I have so much work of my own to do, and we must economize all we can."
"Well," indolently, "don't expect too much of me."
"How would you like to travel, then?" asks Floyd. "Father, I find, did a good deal himself."
"The travelling would be jolly, but I may as well be honest. I've no knack of selling."
"Then begin at the books," returns the elder, decisively. "You ought to be able to do a man's work somewhere."